


"Sometimes I Don't Talk For Days"

by Shoedog



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flatmate Sherlock, Gen, Het, Kink Meme, Loud Sex, Oral Sex, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoedog/pseuds/Shoedog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on kink request: " Sherlock has embarked on a sexual relationship with Molly, his first, and it turns out he's pretty loud in bed. I'd love to read a fic that alternates between what Sherlock and Molly are doing in bed (maybe a long, slow blowjob that has Sherlock writhing) and John's reaction to all the noise outside."</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Sometimes I Don't Talk For Days"

"Sometimes I don't talk for days..." 

John's thought back to Sherlock's deluded self inventory of 'Bad Flatmate Traits' often during the years but this one, this one still spins his head around the garden path. 

Particularly this ~what 3:00 AM?~ morning, as the rumblings of the once ascetic, now sybarite (with a mighty vengeance AND a willing Pathologist) flatmate resonate through the walls, floors and rusty pipes of 221b. John crushed the pillows to his head as a sotto voce, disembodied "Ah….Molly….please….no….I'll…." embedded his brain pan. 

The novelty of Sherlock and Molly's first 'sleepover' was so incongruous, odd and amusing that the night's performance was worth the red, drooping eyes and yawns of the ensuing workday. 

The second night, viewing the couple's ill concealed coo and bill ~Molly just happened to drop off a splatter pattern analysis of a cold case and curled on the sofa next to a diffident Sherlock, supposedly riveted by 'Charlie Brooker's How Video Games Changed The World,' Really? Molly? Sherlock? ~the pairing seemed less disconcerting so the 'Music Of The Night' provided John a satisfying wank and fall dead asleep sound track.

A week later…not so much.

"Molly….please….no….I'll….Ahhh…please, I'll ejaculate in your sweet mouth, stop…OOH..OHH………nooooooo…..Ooooooooooooh."

The next morning, after Molly scurried out of the flat in a sweet version of a stride of pride, John knew he had to give his once keen-minded, now lust-befuddled friend a head's up, so to speak.

"So….Molly's not so much a Piaf, a little sparrow as a swallow, eh?"

Sherlock sat aghast. 

The relationship continued but the soundtrack was, let's say, put on mute.


End file.
